


Highway to Sin

by hunenka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, Episode: s09e08 Rock and a Hard Place, Established Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Written before the episode aired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:58:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunenka/pseuds/hunenka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Sam sits in the chastity group’s meeting, listening to Dean talking about sex in a way that has every person in the room – including Sam – practically drooling over him, he decides such blatant provocation cannot go unpunished. Revenge is coming. (Pun intended.)</p><p> <br/><i>Written before Rock and a Hard Place actually aired, based just on the sneak peek.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Highway to Sin

 

This isn’t how it was supposed to go, Sam thinks desperately and tries to block his mind from what Dean is saying just next to him, but it’s an impossible task. How can you ignore that deep, husky voice when it’s saying things like _the two of us moving together, pressing, pulling, grinding…_

Sam shifts in his seat uncomfortably, places his blessedly large hands between his legs as casually as he can to cover the tenting of his suddenly too tight jeans. This isn’t going well.

And Dean, the insolent little shit, is acting as if completely unaware of the effect his monologue has on every person in the room, and just keeps on talking. “…and everything just builds, and builds, and builds until it all just–“

Loudly, Sam clears his throat and Dean, thank God, finally moves his speech into safer territory.

Sam keeps glaring at him and in his head he’s already plotting revenge. And oh, it’s going to be so, so sweet.

*

Standing on the roadside, they say goodbye to Sheriff Mills, exchanging handshakes and smiles and words of thanks for helping with the case, then watch her get into her car and drive away.

“Weird case, huh,” Dean observes, hands stuck in his pockets as he follows the departing car with his eyes until it disappears behind the horizon.

“Yeah,” Sam says absently, his mind already elsewhere. Or, more precisely, on his brother. It’s been nice, seeing Sheriff Mills again, but right now Sam appreciates finally being alone with Dean.

“Let’s go,” Dean starts to open the Impala’s door but before he can get inside, he’s stopped by Sam’s hand locking itself around his wrist like a handcuff. Dean shoots him a frown. “What?”

Not letting go of Dean’s wrist, Sam drags him around the car until the Impala is standing between them and the road and slams Dean against her metal body.

“Hey, watch it!” Dean starts to struggle, pushing at Sam with his free hand only to have it caught in a tight grip too. “What’s gotten into you?”

Not feeling like answering, Sam presses Dean’s wrists into the car’s door and steps between Dean’s parted legs, crowding him, trapping him between the Impala and himself.

Dean glares up at him, partly defiant, partly confused, but at least he’s stopped trying to break free. ”Sam?”

His gaze drawn helplessly to those full lips, opened slightly in an unspoken question, Sam bends down and kisses them, hard and messy, his teeth catching on the soft, unresisting flesh, his tongue invading Dean’s mouth like he wants to smother him with it. After a moment of stunned inactivity, Dean’s body comes alive as he responds, going from 0 to 100 in an instant, mouth opening up wider for Sam, hips thrusting forward wildly, jean-clad erection against jean-clad erection.

And that’s when Sam lets go of Dean’s wrists and steps away. It’s not exactly easy, but he does his best to make it look so. “Come on, we’ve got a long road ahead of us,” he says coolly, keeping his voice as even as he can and pushes Dean away from the car door so he can get inside.

Dean just stands on the spot where he ended when Sam pushed him, all wide eyes and red lips and bulging pants and Sam’s instincts tell him to get out of the car again and finish what he started, but he doesn’t, because he’s got a plan. “We don’t have all day, Dean.”

Although he’s grumbling and muttering something about cockteasing little brothers, Dean sits behind the steering wheel – and with a smug smile, Sam can’t fail to notice how he keeps his legs spread wide to ease the pressure on his erection – and they pull away.

Sam shifts in his own seat because he’s probably not doing any better than Dean when it comes to their state of arousal. He trains his eyes on the wide, long stretch of highway before him and steels himself mentally. It’s going to be a long ride indeed.

*

Careful not to do it too conspicuously, Sam makes sure that Dean stays hard all the time. It’s not really that difficult, he knows his brother well enough to be able to keep him on edge with almost no effort at all.

He sits up as straight as he can in the car and stretches out his arms, puffs out his chest, letting his muscles show under the t-shirt he’s wearing, and lets out a long, loud, satisfied moan.

He exaggerates leaning towards Dean when the car makes a sharp turn, steadying himself with a hand placed very high on Dean’s thigh and keeping it there just a bit longer than necessary.

He grabs a bottle of water from the back seat and makes a show of wrapping his lips around its neck, drinking slowly and again moaning in pleasure.

He claims he needs to look at something in Dad’s journal which is in the duffel lying on the backseat behind Dean and as he reaches for it he presses against Dean and breathes wetly against the side of his throat. “Almost got it,” he says, making sure his lips brush the skin under Dean’s ear.

He takes the water bottle again and places it between his legs, lets his thumb run over the top, then wraps his palm around it, moves it slowly up and down in a very suggestive manner.

And so it goes on and on.

Dean keeps giving him suspicious, mistrustful glances but doesn’t say anything, although Sam notices he’s really pushing the speed limit, probably trying to get back to the bunker and their room as soon as possible. He’s trying to act cool and unaffected, but Sam can tell Dean is slowly getting desperate.

Good.

*

“Why don’t we take a short break?” Sam suggests some time after they stopped for lunch at Biggerson’s. “Get some fresh air, stretch our legs.”

Dean shoots him another distrustful look but he pulls up anyway. It’s already dark and the highway is practically deserted, they only passed a few cars in the last half an hour or so.

“Finally alone and with some privacy,” Sam says contentedly and has to suppress a chuckle at the open relief that crosses Dean’s face. He gets out of the car and hears the door on Dean’s side open and then close with a creak as Dean follows him to the roadside.

Sam doesn’t even get a chance to say something before Dean is on him, greedy hands pulling his head down for a kiss before clutching at Sam’s waist, sliding under layers of clothing to claw at naked skin, then going for Sam’s belt buckle. Dean’s always drawn most pleasure from giving pleasure to his partners.

That’s a change of plan Sam can accommodate to, no complaints. “Yeah,” he breathes out when Dean’s hands open his fly and slip under the waistband of his boxers, wrapping around his cock immediately. “Just like that.”

Dean starts jacking him with slow, firm strokes, all the while still devouring Sam’s mouth hungrily. His own erection is pressing against Sam’s thigh, hard and hot even through the denim between them. And Sam intends to keep it that way.

He considers suggesting that Dean gets down to his knees right here on the deserted roadside, but then decides that would probably be pushing it too far and it would only get him an angry “Fuck you” or even a punch. Dean often lets Sam push him around in private, but not like this.

Sam clearly underestimates Dean’s enthusiasm though, because soon Dean is pulling away from the kiss and – God, what a sight – kneeling gracefully, holding Sam’s gaze in challenge as he goes. Gravel scrunches under Dean’s knees as he searches for the most comfortable position and then his hand on Sam’s cock is replaced by hot, wet tongue swirling around the head before soft, plush lips lock around him.

“Yeah, go on,” Sam encourages him with words and with hands fisted in Dean’s short hair, forcing Dean to take him in deeper and grunting when Dean obliges eagerly, sucking him into the tight, wet heat of his mouth and moaning around him excitedly.

Too excitedly for Sam’s liking. In a true show of superhuman willpower, Sam manages to turn his attention away from Dean’s mouth on his cock, wanting to make sure Dean doesn't get too happy and ruin Sam's plans. He discovers that Dean is only leaning on Sam’s leg for balance with one hand, the other one is down between his legs, palm pressing against his crotch.

Tutting, Sam reaches to get hold of that badly behaved hand, pulling it away, ignoring Dean’s whine of protest. He places the hand on his leg and holds it there until Dean makes an affirmative sound, signaling that he won’t try to take it away.

“That’s right,” Sam praises him, “you’re gonna need it. Hold on tight and open up wide.”

And Dean does, fingers bunching up the fabric of Sam’s jeans as he holds on, trying to keep as still as he can while Sam fucks his mouth, no finesse or grace, just sharp, deep thrusts that have Dean panting for breath through his nose. It’s a shame it’s already so dark, Sam will never get enough of seeing his brother like this.

Suddenly his climax takes Sam by surprise and he cries out, nearly folding in half as his body refuses to obey. Dean is there to steady him though, quickly rising to his feet and wrapping his arms around Sam’s torso as he attacks Sam’s mouth with dirty kisses and starts to hump Sam’s leg again.

That wakes Sam up. “Nuh-uh,” he says and frees himself from Dean’s grasp, taking a step back so their bodies are not touching anymore. He looks down as he zips up his fly and buckles his belt so he doesn’t have to see the helpless disappointment on Dean’s face, worried that he might give in if he did. “Not until I say so.”

“But why?” The question, together with the sulky expression he’s wearing, makes Dean look like a little boy. “What’d I do?” He doesn’t even hint at disobeying Sam, though, which makes Sam all warm and tingly inside.

“Oh, you _know,”_ he tells him as he steals the keys from Dean’s pocket because there’s no way he’s going to let him drive in that state. He’s not suicidal.

“I really don’t,” Dean sullenly sinks into the passenger seat, all wide eyes and pouty lips, the perfect image of offended innocence. Like hell.

*

It is a bit cruel maybe, but Sam just can’t help it, Dean is such an easy prey right now and not taking advantage of it would be a colossal waste of opportunity. He just loves to watch Dean squirm.

“Once we get back to our room,” he says conversationally, voice calm and even, in control, “I want you naked the moment we cross the threshold.”

Dean licks his lips and swallows loudly before nodding. “Okay.”

“You’ll be so out of it by the time we get there you’ll be begging already,” Sam continues and a thrill of arousal runs through him when he sees Dean bite on his lower lip as if trying to keep himself from making any sounds. “Pleading for me to touch you, or let you touch yourself, give you something, _anything_.”

Fingers clenched bone-white on his knees, Dean sends a rebellious look in Sam’s direction. His cheeks are burning with both embarrassment and arousal and his breath comes in fast, shallow pants. He's loving this as much as Sam is.

It’s time to turn the heat up a little bit more. “I’m gonna touch you then, Dean. Nice and slow. Start with kisses. Gonna kiss that perfect mouth of yours, make it all swollen and shining with spit. Then I’ll lick and bite my way across your jaws until I get to your ears, nibble on them in that way that always drives you crazy. Then I’ll move downwards, suck bruises on your neck.”

Dean makes an indescribable sound, one that goes straight to Sam’s cock. If he wasn’t hard again already, he’d certainly get hard at this. “I’ll get to your nipples next, flick them with my tongue and pull on them with my teeth, get them dark and perky, and I’ll keep playing with them until you won’t know whether to beg me to keep going or make it stop.”

“Keep going,” Dean pleads, barely audible against the Impala’s engine.

“Oh, I will,” Sam promises. “I’ll slowly make my way down your body until I reach your cock, and by then you’ll be so out of it I’ll have to put that cock ring on you so you don’t come before I allow it.”

The sound that escapes Dean’s mouth couldn’t be described as anything else than a sob. Dean’s eyes are squeezed shut tightly, head bowed low, crimson coloring his cheeks. He looks ravishing and he makes it very hard for Sam to concentrate on driving. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

He keeps talking though; he can’t make himself stop now. “I’ll lick your cock like an ice cream cone, slow, savoring the taste, the feel of it in my mouth. And your balls, I’ll suck them into my mouth and roll them with my tongue, just like you like it.”

“Sam, please…” Dean’s voice has dropped lower than usual and there’s an anguished, tortured undertone to it. Sweat is beading on his brow, slowly sliding down his face until it drops off his chin as if mocking Sam who suddenly longs to lick it off Dean’s skin.

Clenching his jaw so tightly he can hear his teeth grinding, Sam works hard at keeping at least some amount of self-control, an impossible task with Dean sitting so close to him and looking like this, debauched and flushed, already lost in the promise of Sam’s words.

This isn’t how this was supposed to go, Sam was supposed to be the one in charge here, but it’s starting to look like he shot himself in the foot with this ingenious plan of getting his own back on Dean. But now that he’s already driving down this road, he’s not going to stop.

“I’m gonna tell you to roll over next, have you get on your knees and make you pull your ass cheeks apart, show me that slutty little pink hole of yours so I can lick at it, make it wet and slick, push my tongue inside.”

“Please,” Dean rasps again and finally looks at Sam, eyes glazed with lust and lips puffy and swollen from where he keeps biting on them, arm muscles flexing and bulging as he clenches his fists repeatedly, hands twitching with the need to touch himself - but he doesn't, because Sam said no. He’s like a wet dream come true and he’s all Sam’s, not anybody else’s to touch or look or even listen to. That train of thought brings Sam back to that room and Dean’s porny monologue and all those women wanting what’s Sam’s, and it awakens a new rush of angry possessiveness inside him.

“Oh, Dean,” he says, watching Dean out of the corner of his eye as he steers the Impala off the highway because they’re finally approaching Lebanon. “You'll look so good. All spread out and writhing on the bed, making those needy little whimpers–“

Dean makes a sound just like that right then.

“– and asking, begging, pleading for me to let you come,” he goes on, and he could see the image vividly if he closed his eyes, but he doesn’t because he’s got a sight to behold right next to him. “I'm going to wait till you’re crying for it, make you show me those pretty tears. And you know what, Dean?”

Once again, Dean is very determinedly staring at the road ahead of him but he's not fooling anybody, Sam can see all the sings – the muscle jumping in his jaw, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the uncontrollable shivers that wreck his whole body – and he knows Dean is nearly at the end of his rope. “What?” Dean asks finally, breathless and hoarse.

Sam smiles, feeling downright evil. “And I’m thinking about saying no.”

A low, keening whimper comes from Dean. “Sammy, please…”

 _“_ I’m thinking maybe, I’ll just keep going. You know, _touching and feeling all of you. My hands everywhere, tracing every inch of your body_ …”

Dean’s head snaps to the side and he stares at Sam, suddenly all serious and frowning. “ _That’s_ what this is about? What I said in there?”

“What, you thought you could just get away with teasing me like that? Seducing all those women with that porn star voice so they were all drooling over you, wanting what’s _mine_ , while I just had to sit there and watch?”

“Huh?” Dean’s eyebrows scrunch up in an expression of confusion that doesn’t appear to be faked. “What the Hell are you talking about?”

That’s when Sam gets it – Dean actually honestly doesn’t know, he really wasn’t putting on that porny show on purpose!

Dean’s eyes widen in recognition as he understands, too. “You thought I did it to get you all jealous and worked up?”

Sam is just about to open his mouth and start apologizing to Dean for falsely accusing him but Dean beats him to it: “You know, I really had no clue what I was doing to you back then…” He licks his lips slowly, deliberately, before giving Sam a wicked grin and just like that, the game is on again. “But if I’d known it’s gonna make you act like _this_ I’d sure as Hell have done it again.”

Does that mean what Sam thinks it mean? “So you–“

“Yeah, I fucking love it,” Dean rumbles at him and when Sam parks the car in front of the bunker entrance, he leans over to whisper hotly into Sam’s ear, “Now how about you keep your word and do all those dirty things you promised?”

They’ve never made it from the entrance door to their room faster than that night.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I could just wait the couple of days until the episode airs to make it more canon-compliant, but I was afraid something in that episode (like Dean sleeping with one of the women or something horribly angsty or... you know, anything really, since this is SPN we're talking about) would certainly ruin this scenario completely, so I just decided to post it now.


End file.
